


What's in a name?

by loopyhoopyfrood



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Body Swap, in the loosest sense of the term
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loopyhoopyfrood/pseuds/loopyhoopyfrood
Summary: Phryne has a plan. Jack already knows he's going to hate it.





	What's in a name?

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for the April Body Swap prompt, or at least a very loose interpretation of. I wanted to do so much more with this, but I had two exam this month, two deadlines this week, two presentations next week, and I'm currently in Nottingham for an interview for a masters degree. On the plus side, my dissertation is finally done and handed in, and after next week I'll have no more assignments or exams! And we all know what that means... way more time to work on fanfic!  
> Enjoy.

“I have a plan.”

There were many responses Jack could make to that impromptu, but not entirely unexpected, statement. _Come on in Miss Fisher_ or _have a seat Miss Fisher_ or _how likely is this plan to get us both in trouble and how many laws will you be breaking Miss Fisher?_ Knowing the woman as he did however, he simply lifts his eyes from the report he had previously been engrossed in and settles for a disinterested ‘Oh?’.

“We know that Foley won’t talk to me.” She’s stating the facts, walking over to perch on that corner of his desk that he doesn’t remember when he started to leave clear.

“We don’t _know_ that, Miss Fisher.” He can’t help but interrupt, a half-hearted attempt to at least appear to be contributing.

“Trust me Inspector, I’ve dealt with enough of his type to be certain.”

The slight raise of his eyebrow is the only outward sign that he’s wondering whether dealt with is another one of her phrases that means more than it actually says, and the slight pull at the corner of her mouth is the only sign she notices. Given Foley’s _type_ , Jack decides he doesn’t want to know.

“Alright then. What about his friends?” It’s the logical next step, but she’s already shaking her head.

“They’re just the same as Foley. They don’t think women should be involved in their _business_ -”

“ _Nobody_ should be involved in that business Miss Fisher.”

Jack’s quip is rewarded with a roll of the eyes, but he knows her well enough by now to know he’s amused her nevertheless.

“As long as something is banned, people will try and smuggle it. In certain cases I wouldn’t complain-”

“Perhaps I’m not the person you should be confessing that to.”

“-but given what those drugs did to Foley’s customers I’m most definitely on your side of the law with this one.”

“What about if you pose as a buyer?”

She’s shaking her head once again.

“They do a full background check on all their potential customers, and given Foley’s aversion to the fairer sex he’ll be sure to be extremely thorough.”

He leans back in his chair, conceding her point.

“We’ll have to go to the party anyway.” He can’t say he’s exactly looking forward to it, but it took him long enough to convince the higher ups that it was a worthwhile plan that he’s refusing to admit defeat. “Our cover is already set up, and it’ll at least give us the chance to observe them. It won’t be as useful, but we might get something from it.”

“Or-” She leans forward, smiling that smile that tells him she’s got other ideas. He already knows he’s not going to like it. “- _you_ can talk to them.”

He laughs at that, he can’t help it, and gives a slight shake of his head.

“They’re even less likely to talk to a policeman than they are to a woman, Miss Fisher. And even if I forgo the badge, I’m hardly someone who could afford what they’re selling.”

“So you don’t go as you.”

He watches, confused, as she produces a cream envelope from her décolletage and presents it to him with a triumphant grin. He pulls out two pieces of thick card, each elaborately embossed with gold, and despite his detective’s eye he can’t find any clues that will tell him what she’s thinking.

“I can hardly go as someone else with invitations announcing us by name.”

“Not our _names_ Inspector, just initials.”

The shoe immediately drops, and Jack stares at the looping letters addressing _the Honourable P. Fisher_ , shuffling the cards to reveal the similarly neat _J. Robinson_ penned on the second.

“No.”

“It’s the perfect plan!”

“It’ll never work.”

“Of course it will. Lady Cynthia’s the only one who knows me, and I’m sure Aunt P can convince her to stay quiet. It fact she’ll probably jump at the chance of a little excitement.”

“Miss Fisher, I am not pretending to be you.”

“Not me, Jack, don’t be ridiculous. I thought we’d already established that fans wouldn’t work for you.”

“Miss Fisher-”

“What do you say Jack?” She takes the invitations from his hand and pretends to read from them, “The Honourable Philias Fisher and his plus one, Miss Josephine Robinson.”

“No.”

“It’s a solid plan! You pose as someone of my station, turn up with a beautiful woman on your arm-” At this she struck a pose, and Jack couldn’t help the twitch of his lips that he just managed to prevent turning into a smile, “-and Foley will be practically gushing. We’ll have to get you a new suit, of course, and Mr B can give you some pointers-”

“Phryne.”

She focuses on him with that smile of hers, and he knows he’s doomed. It’s a terrible plan, he’ll never pull it off, and he’s most definitely going to hate every second of it. He can think of several lawful, legitimate reasons for him to refuse, and yet when he opens his mouth he finds himself unable to voice any of them. Instead, he simply raises one solitary objection.

“I refuse to be called Philias.”


End file.
